Accept things the way they are now

Lately quite a few people have been making comments to me about my avatar. Speculating about whether or not I've Photoshopped my image—why I look so good in it, so young. (Mostly joking of course, tongue in cheek, or being complementary, God bless them.)



This, of course, is laughable to me because I don't think I look that fabulous in it given that I'm sporting a fair amount of chin waggle among other things. But I did cut off half of my chubby arm, I'll give you that. Oops, in this photo I cut off my entire arm. And my entire son, too. But I only did it after reading an article about how you NEED a face shot avatar that "POPS!" like whiz, snap, crackle baby! I did not airbrush out my wrinkles. If I'd done that, I most likely would have taken the time to airbrush out my grey hair. Most likely. But maybe I would have just left it in there to throw you off the trail of my Photoshopping efforts, and to make you think I really am wrinkle-free and 18 years old.

The truth is this (and I know you're glued to your chair here because your life revolves around me.me.me. and my pointless personal revelations):

It's simply the only good photo of me taken in the last three years. The only photo of me that doesn't make me want to vomit. The only photo where I even remotely look the way I did three years ago before I got pregnant and got thyroid disease and gained 75 pounds, (30 or so which have been lost, but I've got a long way to go, sistah! I had just joined Weight Watchers before I got pregnant, so help me!). The only photo of me that I can look at without, quite literally, choking back a tear. All my wrinkles aren't standing out like white flags to the ravages of time and sun exposure, (and drinking and smoking and eating bad things and intense stress and lack of sleep), due to the lighting being really good in that one tiny window of time at the apple farm. And the flash hitting my face at what I presume is just the right angle. And because I am relaxed and happy and I have my boy in my arms and my husband is standing in front of me.

It's not you. It's me. My vanity. Or what's left of it.

I heard on Oprah today, (don't laugh—I'm taping it because it's Best Life Week and she's supposed to talk about her similar thyroid problems), that one of the keys to spiritual growth is to accept things as they really are. Not how they were. Not how we wish they were. As they are. I guess it's all part of living in the here and now. We need to be present in the moment and, I will add, 100% honest with ourselves if we are to achieve spiritual growth.

So I done went and changed my avatar here and on Twitter and Facebook to one more representative of the way I look every day. One without makeup. I took this on Christmas morning just after opening the locket given to me by The Bitter Half containing photos of my babies.



My face is poofy and swollen by the years and the extra pounds. My eyebrows should be treated with a blowtorch. My lips are peeling. My nose looks really weird - like it's growing a baby nose on each side. Thank God the flash blew out the wrinkles. But I am happy. And that, dear friends and readers, is a true respresentation of me.